


stable

by CCs_World



Series: Neverwinter, Washington [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Backstory, Child Abuse, Gen, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, It's Very Very Vague
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-07-06 04:35:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15878655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CCs_World/pseuds/CCs_World
Summary: Taako's twin sister leaves him to fend for himself in the foster system after she's been adopted. These are the three years Taako spends alone in the system.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! As you can see, I'm writing yet another prequel for ACC. I just really wanted to write out Taako's tragic backstory :')
> 
> If I need to tag anything please let me know, and if I write in any inaccuracies about the foster system, please forgive me. I'm doing my best to educate myself, but I still get some things wrong.
> 
> This fic gets a little rough, so hang in there, folks.
> 
> Warnings for chapter 1: Mentions of transphobia, some bullying, child neglect, a brief scene where Taako gets injured, a brief and vaguely described dream sequence in which Taako experiences a traumatic flashback referencing csa.

“No, Lulu, you can't leave--”

“Taako,  _ listen.” _

“I can't let you go! You're not gonna leave me alone here!”

The pair of eerily alike children sit huddled outside a room, an office, in which a small gathering of adults waits to see what decisions the ten-year-olds will make to determine their futures. The boy shakes his head furiously as he shouts, and the girl’s face is made wretched by the expression of desperation that twists it.

“Koko,  _ please--”  _ Strong hands grip skinny shoulders. “Listen, Koko, these people told me they could… they could make me  _ who I am. _ They’re supportive, and they have money, and they'll do whatever it takes to help me, Taako. They're gonna get me  _ medicine _ and  _ surgery _ and I won't feel  _ trapped  _ anymore. Please, Taako--you are my  _ heart,  _ I love you, but this could be my only chance.” Wet eyes glisten.

“I--”

“Taako.” The girl cups her brother’s face, her thumbs smoothing over his flushed cheeks, wiping away the tears that stud them like diamonds. “I’m not… I’m not gonna make you say yes. You’ve gotta decide this on your own. But, Taako, this could be my chance to  _ get out of here. _ Remember what that boy a few rooms down said to me the other day?”

Her brother shudders, and she mirrors his action. They know what life in the system is like for kids like Lup. The threat the boy had made towards Lup was… sickening. Awful. Taako knows exactly how badly Lup needs to get away.

But he also knows how badly he needs Lup in order to survive.

_ For once, _ he tells himself.  _ For once, don’t be selfish. _

The boy’s slight frame trembles with his indecision. “They’ll… they'll make you happy,” he mumbles. His skinny arms hug his body, eyes fixed on the floor. “They’ll help you.” He doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking to her; it’s more like a stream of consciousness that flows from his mouth. He sniffles, then lunges forward and hugs her tight. “You've gotta go, Lulu. I'm not gonna try to stop you anymore.” He's crying, but so is she, so it doesn't count.

She gives him a squeeze, warm and tight, the way Lup always hugs, and then she pulls back, arms still looped loosely around his neck. “I’m not gonna leave you, not really,” she whispers, tears still trickling from her eyes. “You’re my heart. We’re always gonna be together, Koko. We’ll find each other someday.”

Taako nods. “I love you,” he says. He doesn’t ever say it. He says it now.

She smiles and kisses his forehead. “I know.”

* * *

Taako is ten years old, and his sister has just left him. He’s always been quiet. Now, he’s silent.

Now that his fiery twin isn’t around, the kids in the group home are, in a word, nasty. They tease him for growing his hair long, for the gap in his teeth, for the way he speaks haltingly, quietly, as if waiting for someone to finish his sentences or speak for him. That is, when he speaks at all.

He is, however, fairly well-behaved. With staff permission, he starts hanging out mainly in the kitchen. The group home’s “mother” is a kind, if salty, woman named Paloma, and she makes  _ amazing _ pastries. She teaches him how to bake cinnamon rolls and cranberry scones and blueberry muffins. She’s the only good person in the home, Taako thinks.

Taako does make one friend in the home, a little girl named Ren. She’s maybe two years younger than him, and she loves to tag along behind him wherever he goes. He’s pretty sure she worships the ground on which he walks. It’s annoying. (He loves it.)

A few months after Lup leaves, Taako is told by his social worker Adeeva, a nice enough young woman with a hijab, to put his clothes and his belongings into a trash bag, because there’s a family who just recently got approved for foster care, and their home is very nice. She sounds excited for him. Taako wishes he could feel excited, too. As he packs, the children in the group home avoid him. He’s just another lucky one.

Ren doesn’t avoid him though--she comes up to him before he can step out the door and flings her arms around him in a hug. “I’m gonna miss you,” she says, her grey eyes huge.

“I--yeah,” Taako says, his body frozen. She doesn’t hug like Lup. (He doesn’t know why she  _ would. _ It’s just that Lup’s the only person who’s ever hugged him.) He wrenches himself from her grip and a staff member leads him outside to where his social worker waits in her car. Taako staggers down the stairs, dragging the half-full garbage bag behind him, and climbs into the back seat of the car. He lets his heart pound too hard, and he tries not to think of Ren crying as they drive away to a new and terrifying place.

The drive is awkward. Adeeva tries to make conversation, but Taako remains quiet. He wants Lup. He doesn’t want to go to a new home with new people and new things.

When they pull into the driveway, Taako gapes, just a little bit. The house is  _ huge. _ And fancy. It looks a little like his dream home.

A man steps up to the car as Taako climbs out, his hair close-cropped and his chin sharp and square. His eyes are a bright, bright blue. He wears a grey suit. “Hello, you must be Taako,” he says, giving Taako a straight-toothed, bright white smile. “I’m Anthony Crey.”

Taako doesn’t trust him. He doesn’t trust anyone with perfect teeth. A woman appears from behind him, and she waves. Her fingernails are long and polished. Her teeth are also very straight, and very white. “Hello, Taako,” she says, “I’m Diane.”

Taako’s heart claws at his throat. He doesn’t trust these people. But he’s used to this, used to people giving him fake smiles and empty eyes and false comfort, and so he smiles back, just as false, and he says, “Hi, I’m Taako.”

“I’ll be in touch,” Adeeva says, and she says a lot of other things as well, to the adults, and then she gives Taako a hug and gets back into her car and drives away, leaving him alone with these strangers and his trash bag full of everything he’s ever owned.

The Crey’s house is pretty big, fairly spacious, and too, too, too white. It’s clean, clean, clean--the lawn is manicured, not a leaf on the perfect sidewalk, and the paint isn’t even a little bit chipped. Everything is evenly spaced and the walls are perfectly perpendicular to the ground, unlike his grandfather’s farmhouse, which was huge and a little crooked and always a little dingy and messy and rough-around-the-edges. Inside, all the rooms are perfectly clean. Not a single corner full of clutter, not a speck of dust anywhere. The floors are all shiny with wax, and the rugs are soft and perfectly fluffed. The couches are stiff, as if nobody has ever sat on them. The windows are clear--no nose-prints or fingerprints or smudges anywhere. It’s a little cooler than what room temperature should be.

It feels as if nobody has ever lived here.

Taako shivers and clutches his trash bag close to him.

“Come on,” Anthony says, and takes Taako’s skinny elbow. Taako flinches  _ hard. _ Anthony doesn’t seem to care, and just takes a hold of it again. “Don’t be like that. Do you want to see your room?”

Taako is breathing too hard, but he steadies it a little bit and tries to calm his pounding heart as he nods. It  _ is  _ a rather novel idea, having his own room. So he allows Anthony to lead him up the shiny, gently curved stairs to the second level, and then to a white door. “We were so excited to finally have a child living in our house,” Anthony gushes as he opens the door, “we spent so much time on your room!”

_ Well, it’s certainly not a stable, _ is the first thing that comes to Taako’s mind, and just the thought of sleeping in his grandfather’s barn, curled up with Lup, assaults him with such a mix of emotions that he sways for a moment.

The room is spacious and airy, the curtains and carpeting a pale pastel blue that matches the comforter and the pillow shams. Everything else--the walls, the bed frame, the furniture, the fixtures--are all stark white, except for a single print of a painting hanging near the far corner of the room. It’s a Van Gogh--the sunflowers painting. The splash of yellow, warm and earthy, ties the whole room together somehow. Taako feels like he might start crying.

“Well?” Diane says. “Do you like it?”

Taako takes a few faltering steps into the room, dropping his little trash bag onto the floor. The carpeting is plush and soft and cushions his every footstep underneath his ratty red tennis shoes. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah.”

“Wonderful,” she says with her too-perfect smile. “How about you stay up here and get yourself settled? I have some errands I need to run, and Anthony has a few calls to make--but I'll only be a few hours.”

“Okay,” Taako says. He doesn't have to turn around to know that he was alone before he finished speaking.

The room is too white and too big and too quiet. He knows Lup would hate it, would want something red and something bright and something loud, would start shouting, wouldn't let them just leave Taako to the suffocating silence. But she's not here. She left him for a family, for a home, for sunshine and laughter and hugs and a new body. And Taako is happy for her, happy that she's happy and safe. But he can still miss her, right?

He sits down slowly on the bed (it’s as soft as a dream, he's never had a bed so soft) and tucks his knees to his chest. At least nobody's making fun of him here. At least he has his own room here. At least they don't actively hate him here. Those are positives.

Maybe the Creys will adopt him, and he'll have a home and a family too.

Taako sighs, gets up, and fishes a book from his bag, bringing it back to his bed and sprawling on top of it. He opens it up to a chapter near the middle and begins to read, and the world slips away around him.

Six hours later, he realizes that he hasn’t eaten breakfast or lunch, and he’s getting pretty hungry. He climbs out of bed and sneaks down the stairs to the kitchen, which--okay, Taako has to stand and stare in awe for a moment, because it’s so  _ shiny. _ The refrigerator is huge and stainless-steel, looming at the edge of the room. There’s a marble-topped island over which some industrial-themed lights are hung. The floor is a shiny hardwood. The cabinets are a beautiful red-brown. And everything is  _ gigantic. _

Nervously, Taako approaches the array of cabinets. He’s sure Diane and Anthony have crackers, and maybe some cheese to go with them. He opens a cabinet--just a bunch of saucepans. He tries a different one. That one’s baking dishes. Diane seems like the kind of lady who would cook a lot of casseroles. Taako shrugs and closes the door. He tries a different one. And then another, and another, and another. At most he finds a box of Cheerios and some raisins. So he grabs a handful of Cheerios and a handful of raisins and takes them back up to his room to snack on while he reads. It’s better than nothing, after all, and it’s  _ definitely _ better than what he and Lup used to eat at their grandfather’s.

At 6:30, which was dinnertime at the group home, Taako feels hungry again. He goes downstairs, but Diane still doesn’t seem to be back. The house is very big and very empty. His footsteps seem to echo as he wanders. Eventually, he comes across Anthony’s study. Peeking in, he watches as Anthony clicks frantically on a mouse at a computer. “Um, Anthony?” he says quietly. “I’m hungry.”

“Not now,” the man absently replies. “Talk to Diane.”

“Diane’s not--”

“Not  _ now, _ ” Anthony repeats firmly.

Taako flinches at his voice. “Sorry,” he says quickly, and backs out of the room.

An hour later, his stomach is growling. He slips downstairs and into the kitchen to grab another snack, and Diane walks in on him with his arm in the cabinet. “Taako!” she gasps, sounding scandalized. “What on earth are you doing?”

He bites his lip with protruding, wide-spaced teeth. “I was hungry,” he tells the floor.

“Well, you could have told Anthony,” she says, rolling her eyes. “He could have gotten you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich if you’d asked.”

“I tried to,” Taako says, “he said he couldn’t talk to me when I tried!” He pauses. “Plus, I’m allergic to peanuts. I can’t eat PB and J.”

Diane sighs and chooses not to respond to the latter part of his argument. “I don’t think he’d ignore you,” she says. “I’ll go talk to him.”

She heads for the study and Taako trails close behind, wanting to see how it’ll go. Obviously Anthony can’t lie to his wife. That’s not how couples work!

“Anthony,” Diane says, “Taako claims he told you he was hungry and you didn’t get him anything. I don’t see why you wouldn’t, but he seems pretty convinced.”

Anthony sighs and turns around to look at his wife. “I never heard him say any such thing. Honestly, Diane, if he told me he needed something I would have gotten it for him!”

Taako stares at him, open-mouthed. “But you--!”

“I caught him stealing from the cabinets,” Diane adds to her husband. “He was snatching food for himself. Honestly, how are we supposed to know where our food is going if the kid’s sneaking food under our noses?”

“Really,” Anthony sighs, sounding utterly disappointed. Taako’s heart sinks. “Honestly, he’s probably eaten enough stolen food that he doesn’t need dinner. Plus, he lied to you--an aching belly should serve as a good enough punishment for lying and stealing.”

Taako’s face is red from anger and humiliation. Not only are they falsely accusing him of stealing and lying, but they’re talking about him like he isn’t even there! “Hey!” he says, his protest hesitant but there. “I’m not--I’m not lying! And I wasn’t stealing… technically.”

“Quiet, kid, the grown-ups are talking,” Anthony says. Diane glances at him, and her look is full of disappointment.

“Listen, babydoll, we wanna keep you, but you have to make this work, okay?” Diane says, and her voice sounds almost promising.

A home? Here, in this big, fancy house, with their huge kitchen? The idea is very, very appealing to Taako. All he has to do is play by their rules, and he can have whatever he wants.

So carefully, Taako nods. His eyes burn with tears he refuses to shed. “Okay,” he says in a faltering voice.

“Good boy.” Diane pats his back, right between the shoulder blades. Taako flinches hard, yet again. He  _ hates _ when people touch him. It reminds him of his creepy uncle. “Go to your room, no food ‘til breakfast,” she adds, and pushes him a little bit, nudging him out of the study.

Taako stumbles out of the study and up the stairs, closing his door and collapsing onto the bed face-first. He doesn’t know how long he lies there, face-planted into the pillows, but he eventually sits up. He has to formulate a game plan to get food.

Typically, these plans were made by Lup, but Lup isn’t here anymore, so Taako just has to Think Like Lup. He doesn't know Anthony and Diane’s sleep patterns yet so he's not sure when a safe time would be to sneak food up from the kitchen to his room. But he can definitely wait until they go to bed and then sneak down and grab a few crackers to snack on. He only hopes he doesn’t get caught.

An hour passes, and then another, and another. Taako sits with his back against his closed bedroom door and listens for the sounds of the Creys heading up the stairs for their bedroom. He waits. He listens. He waits.

Eventually, he hears them, footsteps loud on the hardwood stairs, then soft on the carpeting. A door closes. There is a long pause, and then it opens once more. Footsteps pad down the hallway to the bathroom, where he can hear running water, the flush of a toilet, and quiet chatter that he can’t quite make out.

When their bedroom door closes for a final time, Taako resolves to wait a little longer until he knows they’re asleep.

He falls asleep there, back against the door, chin on his chest, legs splayed out in front of him.

* * *

 

**Author's Note: Please note that in this section Taako experiences a flashback dream, which includes sexual abuse. Please use discretion, and if this topic upsets you, please skip to the next author's note.**  


* * *

Taako dreams of a strong hand on the back of his neck at six years old. He remembers it clapping his shoulder, the loud, booming laugh of the man behind him. He remembers bruises that didn’t come from anger, blossoming like ugly violet flowers on his thighs the morning after. He remembers vulnerability, cold air gently pulling goose pimples from his naked skin. He doesn’t remember what happened on those nights, not usually, but tonight he dreams of his uncle’s face leaning over him. He remembers feeling weird and dirty after, going to the bathroom in the wee hours of the morning and scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing at his hands and his stomach and his thighs.

He dreams in flashes of scenes, memories all askew, everything changing as soon as he questions a blurry detail--did that happen to him? Wait, did that happen there? Was the kiss on his temple before or after the static in his head? Did he say “beautiful” or “wonderful”? Was the hand on his left or right shoulder?

He knows it hurt, and he knows his uncle hurt Lup, too. He knows that’s why they were taken away from him. He knows things were not normal.

He knows his uncle told him he was lovely, that he was perfect, that he had so much  _ potential, _ that he was so smart and so good for him. He knows his uncle  _ loved  _ him, in a strange way. He knows his uncle wasn’t  _ supposed _ to love him that way. He doesn’t know why. All people say is “It’s wrong.” Maybe someday when he’s older he’ll understand.

* * *

 

**Author's Note: The following content is safe.**  


* * *

Taako wakes up with an awful crick in his neck and a pain gnawing at his stomach. Slowly, he sits up from his position against the door, yawns, and stretches, trying to work out the painful knot of muscles in his neck, but to no avail. Sighing, he stands up and pulls off his shirt from yesterday, digging into his bag to find a clean one to wear. It’s a little wrinkled, but he decides it’ll have to do. Next, he pulls a hair tie off of his wrist and ties back his shoulder-length blonde curls into a low tail, just to keep it out of his face. Then, finally, he ventures from his room, his stomach snarling at him to find something to eat.

The door to the master bedroom is wide open, and nobody is inside. There is a clock on the dresser, and it says that it’s a little after 10:30 in the morning. Taako’s  _ never _ slept that late before. Maybe the Creys aren’t as bad as they seemed last night.  _ They were probably in a bad mood, _ Taako justifies happily, and ventures down the slippery wood stairs, barefoot, to find someone who could get him some breakfast.

The first thing he notices is how quiet it is downstairs. It’s a nice warm day in late summer, but all the doors and windows are shut. There doesn’t seem to be any signs of life anywhere in the house. He can’t even hear anyone speaking. “Hello?” he calls.

There is no answer. He wanders over to where he knows Mr Crey’s study to be, but he isn’t there. “Huh,” Taako says aloud. “Wonder where they are.”

His voice echoes. He hates it.

His stomach growls, reminding him of his original goal. He’s terrified to get caught getting his own food again, but, well--nobody’s home, and he’s hungry. So he ventures into the kitchen and stands on his tiptoes to get to the cabinet where he knows the dry cereal is. Maybe they won’t notice if he has a bowl of Cheerios, especially if he does the dishes afterwards.

He snags a bowl from a different cabinet and pours what looks like an unobtrusive amount of cereal into it, and then adds a small splash of milk into it. He rifles through drawers until he finds a spoon, and then he happily sits on the floor and eats the bland cereal, shovelling one spoonful after another into his mouth as quickly as possible, since he has no idea when Diane and Anthony will get back from wherever they are. He doesn’t want them to catch him stealing food again. Even as he eats, though, guilt burns hot and shameful in his gut. He doesn’t  _ want _ to be a thief. He was just  _ hungry. _

After he quickly drinks up the milk from the bowl, he tosses the dishes into the sink and grabs a dishrag from a drawer nearby, then fills up the sink with hot water and some dish soap (a little too much, but the bubbles are fun to play with) and quickly scrubs up his bowl and spoon. Then he dries the dishes and puts them away where he found them, drains and rinses the sink, mops up any water he got on the floor, and goes into the living room to curl up on the big white fluffy couch. In his oversized T-shirt and basketball shorts, he feels wildly out of place in such a fancy house.

He’s not exactly sure what he’s supposed to do, all alone here in the house. He doesn’t know anybody who lives near here, and he’s not exactly sure what he’s  _ allowed _ to do. So instead, he opts to explore the house. After all, he lives here now. He should be allowed to go anywhere he wants.

The house has  _ a lot _ of rooms. Taako wanders into the dining room, with its huge arched windows and rich red curtains and brightly-polished table. The windows look out onto a huge backyard with trees and a close-trimmed lawn. It should look pretty, but to Taako the whole thing looks sterile. Next he finds the library and game room, which, again, should look fun and inviting, with its tables of checkers and chess and its shelves full of books and its stone fireplace, but again, the wood of the shelves and the floor and the green curtains all look so--bland. Pale. Ugly.

Taako moves on to the family room, which for some reason is different from the living room. Unlike the living room, where everything is white except for the huge TV, the family room is done in shades of coral and pale blue. It looks incredibly washed-out, and it hurts Taako’s eyes. There’s a huge gold-framed mirror hanging over the painted-white mantle of the fireplace, and sitting on the mantle is a small clock and a single framed photograph of Anthony and Diane.

He picks up the photograph and inspects it. Diane is smiling, her arms wrapped around Anthony’s neck. She looks very happy. Anthony appears to be laughing, his arms around Diane’s waist. There’s a tree in the background, a cherry blossom, and petals are raining down from it. Taako smiles. They’re nice here, he can  _ feel  _ it.

The front door opens, and he can hear footsteps echoing in the hall. Judging from the sound of the shoes (high-heeled, probably four inches, long, purposeful strides in them), it’s Diane. Taako runs out into the foyer to greet his foster mother. “Hi,” he chirps, grinning. “Where were you?”

“What’s that in your hands?” Diane asks him, her sharp eyebrows furrowing.

Taako holds up the photograph. “I found this in the family room! I don’t know why you have two rooms that are basically the same, but I like the family room a lot and I liked the photo so I was looking at it when you got home and--”

“Put it back,” Diane says, and then she continues walking, heading into the living room. She sounds… unfathomably disappointed in him.

Embarrassed, Taako returns the photo to where it belongs, and then shuffles his way into the living room. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

Diane doesn’t seem to hear him, or even notice him, busy with her face in some tabloid magazine. Eventually, though, she looks up. “Oh, you’re still here,” she says flatly. “Why don’t you go… do something? Play?”

Taako makes as if to argue or say something, but Diane has already turned her attention back to her magazine, so he sighs and heads for the stairs in order to go up to his room and read a book.

However, the newly-polished hardwood stairs are surprisingly slippery under the bare feet of a ten-year-old boy, and as he hits the sixth stair from the top, not watching where he’s going, his foot slips out from under him. The world blurs before him and he’s too late to catch himself with his hands before his chin hits the stair in front of him and he tastes something metallic and warm in his mouth just before he feels a sharp pain in his tongue, and then he tumbles the rest of the way down the stairs, his shin hitting the banister with a nasty  _ smack _ just before he comes to rest, hard, on his back, knocking the wind out of him with a heavy  _ whuff. _

He lays there, stunned, for a good few seconds, before the pain catches up to him and he lets out a little whimper of pain before turning and spitting blood out of his mouth. “Ow,” he groans, sitting up and feeling every inch of his body ache. Tears prick in his eyes from the scare and the pain, and they roll down his cheeks in fat drops when he tries to stand up but his leg protests sharply, causing him to fall back onto his bottom with a yelp that quickly turns into a wail. 

He sits there on the ground and cries for a full ten minutes, wails unbroken except for hiccupping sobs of panic before he eventually falls silent, realizing that  _ nobody has come to help him. _ Sniffling, he wipes miserably at his wet face and running nose before spitting another glob of blood out of his mouth and clumsily getting to his feet, his leg protesting with bolts of pain every time he puts weight on it. He stumbles into the living room, where Diane is now watching the news on the TV, her eyes fixed on the screen. “D-Diane,” he sniffles, limping over to her and clutching a bruised elbow, “I f-fell down the stairs and my--my leg--”

Diane glances over at him and her mouth twists like she’s trying to look sympathetic but doesn’t really feel that way. “It’s just a bruise, dollbaby,” she says, without even really looking that hard. “No blood, no foul, and all that.” She smiles at him, a tight expression with little depth, and adds, “How about you go up to your room and lie down a little, yeah? Do you want a drink of water before you go up?”

Taako nods. Maybe Diane’s right; he’s probably overreacting to the whole thing. He’s probably still just scared. He follows her, still favoring one leg, into the kitchen, where she gets him a cup of water from the tap and hands it to him. He drinks it down greedily; it’s lukewarm, but he’s thirsty from all the crying. When he’s finished, he puts the cup down on the counter and shuffles unsteadily back to the stairs and, with some difficulty, manages to get up them without falling. Then he makes his way to his bedroom and flops down on his mattress with a soft  _ whumpf, _ his eyes closing as his arms come up to snuggle his pillow. It’s soft and warm and comforting, almost like cuddling his sister. It soothes his aching limbs and his leaking eyes and lulls him into a sort of half-dreaming state.

And there he remains until dinnertime.

A few days later, when his social worker comes to check on Taako, she asks about the massive bruising all over Taako’s arms and legs, and the funny limp he’s adopted. “I fell down the stairs,” Taako says, and Diane adds helpfully, “Don’t worry, I checked him all over. He’s fine.”

And that ends that.

* * *

Anthony is good at cooking, it turns out, when he’s home to cook. When he’s not, and it’s just Taako and Diane, she heats up some frozen microwavable TV dinners for the two of them to eat, and they sit at the table and Taako doodles in his coloring book while he eats and Diane reads a magazine. Dinnertimes are quiet no matter who cooks--there is little to no conversation, and when there is, it’s usually between the adults, and they speak mainly of things Taako doesn’t, and can’t, understand. It quickly becomes apparent that, in this house, children are to be seen and not heard, and even then they should rarely be seen. Diane and Anthony believe in good, old-fashioned, solitary playtime, so they let Taako basically go where he wants and do as he pleases. Which is fun, for a while.

Eventually, a few months after the stairs accident, Taako is chatting with his social worker, who came to pay a visit, and he mentions that he’s been feeling lonely lately. “Anthony hasn’t been home for a week,” he explains, “and Diane goes out for hours and hours all the time. I get to do what I want, and play outside, and go wherever I want to, but I get a little lonely sometimes. Plus,” he adds conspiratorially, “I’m pretty sure this house is  _ haunted. _ ”

“Haunted?” Adeeva asks. “What do you mean?”

“Well, when I’m all alone here, sometimes I can hear  _ noises _ coming from the attic. It’s really spooky,” Taako explains. “One time, I thought I heard someone inside the house that wasn’t Diane or Anthony, and I hid under my bed and waited, so the ghost couldn’t find me.”

The social worker slowly turns her head to look Diane straight in the eyes. “Did he ever tell you about this?” she asks.

“No,” Diane denies immediately, at about the same time that Taako says, “Yeah, ‘course I did!”

Adeeva’s eyes narrow. “Taako?” she says. “You said you  _ did _ tell her?” She doesn’t miss the furious look on Diane’s face.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t lie to you,” Taako says, and then adds, “unless it was something really,  _ really _ secret and private. Then I’d probably lie to you.”

“What did you tell her, Taako?” Adeeva presses.

“I told her that there was a ghost in the house, and I’d heard him walking all around downstairs, but she didn’t believe me! She told me there was no such thing as ghosts, and my imagination’s too big. And then she ruffled my hair and told me to go play,” Taako explains earnestly, completely oblivious to the absolutely hateful look on his foster mother’s face.

After another few minutes of conversation between Taako, Diane, and Adeeva, Taako is told by Adeeva to go up to his room for a little bit. Of course, he doesn’t, and he sits outside the family room and listens to Adeeva scold Diane. “You’re putting him in danger, Diane,” Adeeva says in a hushed but obviously angry tone of voice. “This is classified as neglect, and I could be obligated to take him out of this house. You leave him on his own for  _ hours _ at a time? Diane, the noises he’d heard while you were out could have been a  _ kidnapper  _ or a  _ burglar  _ or an  _ arsonist, _ that is  _ deliberate endangerment.  _ Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Diane says stiffly, and then there’s the sound of people shifting on furniture and Taako scampers up the stairs and into his bedroom. Adeeva comes up a few minutes later, and he puts down his book he’d pretended to be reading as she sits on the edge of his bed.

“Taako,” Adeeva says. She sounds a little sad. “I need you to tell me how many times a day you’re eating.” Oh, so she’s noticed by now that his clothes seem even baggier on him than normal.

“Two, most of the time. If Diane’s home for lunch. I don’t eat breakfast a lot because I don’t want them to think that I’m stealing their food.” His voice trails off at the end of his sentence, shame coloring his words and his cheeks.

Adeeva looks shocked and horrified. “Stealing? Why would you be stealing? Why would you  _ need _ to steal food?” And then she pauses. “Taako,  _ are  _ you stealing food?”

“Only when I have to!” he explains far too hastily. Oh no, now he’s going to be in trouble, he’s going to go to jail for stealing-- “Only when I’m _really_ hungry, like that one time they sent me to bed without supper, or that one time when nobody was home to make supper, or sometimes in the mornings when nobody’s home and I’m hungry and I eat some Cheerios from the cupboard, but I don’t _wanna_ be a thief, I swear, I’m just hungry, don’t put me in jail, Adeeva--!” By the time he finishes, he’s teary-eyed and panicking, and Adeeva puts her hands on his wrists to keep him from yanking on his hair.

“Taako,” she says gently. “Taako, you’re not in trouble. We’re not going to arrest you for eating. This is--it’s my job to make sure you’re eating three meals a day at consistent times, and making sure you’re not hungry and you don’t have to steal food, okay?” He nods slowly, sniffling. “This place isn’t good for you,” Adeeva continues. “We’re going to take you back to the group home, and we’ll find you a new family to live with. How does that sound?”

He nods again, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Yeah. I don’t wanna be hungry anymore.”

Her eyes are impossibly sad as she replies, “I know. I know.”

* * *

Taako leaves the next day. Diane cries. Anthony still isn’t home from his business trip.

Taako hates Diane for crying. But that doesn’t explain why he’s crying, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life at the home is worse than Taako remembers. Paloma helps. Adeeva finds a new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's shorter than the last one but I figured I should update even if it's short. Big warnings for homophobic slurs and mild non-graphic physical assault at the very beginning.

Taako finds himself back in the group home, no closer to his goal (a home) than where he’d started a few months ago. The kids’ bullying has evolved at this point, and now people aren’t just throwing the word “weirdo” at him, but also more fun ones like “queer” and “faggot”. He supposes it has something to do with his long hair, his high voice, his long eyelashes, his higher cheekbones--not much he can do about that, unfortunately--but also with the startings of  _ something, _ when he meets a boy named Angel.

Angel is new at the group home, and he’s classified as “trouble”. His knuckles are cracked, and he has a bruise on his cheek, the first time Taako sees him. He’s three years older than Taako.

The first thing Taako notices about Angel is the way he holds himself--chin held high, eyes defiant, shoulders back. He looks important, in charge, special. His deep, dark eyes hold some sorrow, but it is a smouldering fire, the sorrow turned to rage, his lips curling threateningly at anything that tries to break down his walls. He is a fierce inferno.

Taako looks at Angel, and his heart beats,  _ pit-a-pat,  _ and skips one. Every time he spots the older boy, his cheeks flush and his eyelids lower and he walks like he’s both trying to hide and to draw attention to himself.

It doesn’t take long for the kids in the home to notice, and gossip spreads, and before Taako knows it, he’s a “fag” and a “homo”. They come at him, throwing fists and books, and the kids at school catch on and throw spitballs at him and flick pencils at the back of his head and point and snicker. He spends a good portion of each school day hiding in the bathroom, so he doesn’t have to endure black eyes and ugly words.

But that won’t stop him from wanting Angel’s attention, and so he starts wearing bright colors like Angel wears, painting his nails, finding new ways to do his hair. He wants to look nice, so Angel will notice him. So Angel will feel about Taako the way Taako feels about him.

Eventually, Angel does notice Taako. He corners the younger boy in the bathroom, shutting the door and clicking the lock so they’re ensured privacy. “So,” Angel says, “Taako.”

Taako’s face is flushed, and he blinks his wide eyes at Angel. “Hi,” he quavers.

Angel’s mouth stretches in a smile. “I heard you wanted to tell me something, huh?”

“I--yeah. I--Angel, I--”

Angel holds up a hand. He has a bandage on the tip of his index finger. “You don’t even need to say it. I’ve seen how you look at me.” His grin widens. “You’re in lo-o-ove with me.”

Taako ducks his head. The way Angel says it makes him feel gross inside. “I’m not--”

“Shut up,” Angel says, his expression never changing. “I know you are. Everyone knows you are. It’s not like it’s a  _ secret. _ ” He grabs Taako’s face in a long-fingered hand and forces him to look up at him. “People  _ make fun of me _ because of your pervy  _ crush, _ ” he snarls, his face now contorting in anger. “It’s  _ your fault _ .”

Taako whimpers, trying to squirm free of Angel’s grip. “I didn’t try to,” he gasps. “I just think you’re--”

“Shut  _ up,” _ Angel repeats, squeezing Taako’s face painfully.

“Angel, please,” Taako says, trying again to squirm away.

“What? Please  _ what? _ You want a kiss? You want me to kiss you, filthy little faggot?” Angel hisses, lifting Taako by the collar of his shirt and pinning him to the wall, his rage-filled face too close to Taako’s.

“No! No, no, no, no,” Taako gasps for air, his thin chest heaving. “I’m sorry,” he sobs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things bad for you, I didn’t know it’s bad.”

“It’s disgusting,” Angel says, and shoves Taako to the floor, then unlocks the door and leaves Taako alone, lying on the linoleum of the bathroom floor and crying so hard he feels sick.

Taako goes back to dressing in T-shirts, basketball shorts, and hoodies. He feels ugly in them, but it’s better than looking  _ gay. _

* * *

 

After the Angel incident, Taako goes silent. He speaks to nobody except his social worker for weeks. And he  _ doesn’t _ tell Adeeva about what happened in the bathroom.

Eventually, though, Taako is sitting in the kitchen with Paloma, watching her bake, and he is startled out of a daydream when she says, “Would you like to help?”

Slowly, he nods, and gets up from his chair to join Paloma at the countertop where she is mixing batter. “It’s blueberry muffins today,” Paloma explains. “You like those, right?”

Of course Taako likes them. His aunt used to make them all the time. He has her recipe memorized from when he used to help her bake.

He nods to Paloma, and she smiles. “Well, come on, then. Can you get me the blueberries from the refrigerator?”

He nods again and goes over to the refrigerator to grab the box of fresh, fat berries. They smell amazing, and before he can think better of it he pops one in his mouth. Paloma notices and laughs. “Are they ripe enough?” she asks with a smile.

His lips are stained purple-blue from the juice and he nods again, handing her the box of berries before he can be tempted to take a second one. “‘S good,” he mumbles. “Muffins now?”

“Muffins  _ soon, _ ” she promises with a laugh, and dumps about two thirds of the berries into the bowl. She hands the box back to Taako and says, “Here, take care of these,” then turns to the bowl of batter with a wooden spoon. He watches her, box of berries cupped in his hands, before heading to the fridge to put them away. “Where are you going? I asked you to take care of the berries,” Paloma says, and then she winks when he turns to look at her.  _ Oh. _

He grins and shoves a handful of the fruit into his mouth, purple juice dripping down his chin, and Paloma says, “Atta boy,” and returns to mixing the berries into the batter.

Later, when he’s sitting on the counter and snacking on a muffin, an empty blueberry box beside him and his face stained purple, Paloma ruffles his curls and says, “Don’t be afraid to eat, okay, Taako? Everyone needs food to live. Especially growing boys like you.” She waits until he nods, then pulls out a card deck from a pocket in her apron and shuffles the deck. “Let me read your future,” she says, shuffling the cards and laying them out on the counter beside him. “Pick a card. Whatever card you want.”

He does, grabbing a card with a slightly wrinkled corner, and she smiles. When she flips the card, she says, “Oh--Taako, you picked a card from the major Arcana.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means you got a very, very powerful card. This one is called Strength.”

“Am I gonna grow up big and strong? Like a superhero?” Taako asks.

“Well--maybe,” Paloma tells him, ruffling his hair. “Strength on this card means--well, you have to be strong through whatever life gives you. And when the bad things pass, you’re going to be stronger and more powerful than ever before.” She smiles and leans in closer, pressing a kiss that smells of honey and flour to his forehead. “It means,” she whispers more seriously, pressing her forehead to his, “that you have to be  _ brave, _ Taako.”

* * *

 

Taako’s birthday comes and it goes with no real amount of ceremony. He celebrates it quietly and with some solemnity, wishing his twin somewhere else in the world a happy birthday, even though he knows that she’s probably having the happiest birthday in a long, long time. And he’s in the group home, alone and isolated.

He and Lup have both always known they’re different. Lup just found out sooner than Taako just what her difference was, and she was able to find people who could help her and guide her and support her. But Taako is alone, outcast, and scared for his life. Nobody’s going to want someone like him. He’s already been removed from so many homes, what’s a few more?

What’s the use in trying? Lup is wonderful, everything someone would wish for. Taako was a shadow. And now there’s nobody for him to follow, he’s purposeless.

Lup got lucky. Taako will not.

* * *

 

A few weeks after his birthday Adeeva comes to talk to him, looking a little excited. She says, “I’ve found a prospective family.” She whips out some paperwork and tells him about this couple with two kids of their own who are looking for an addition. “Their home is nice,” she says, “and they have a backyard with a swingset, and a playground down the street.”

Taako hasn’t been to a playground in years. He’s eleven, and some of the typical playground equipment is a little too  _ young _ for him, but--he thinks of the prospects of a jungle gym, and some friends to play with, and it’s…  _ nice. _ “How old are the kids?” he asks quietly, trying not to get his hopes up.

“The older one, Zach, is ten, and the younger one, Patrick, is six,” Adeeva says. “You and Zach aren’t that far apart in age, so you should be able to have fun together.”

“I like them,” Taako breathes, then, louder, “They’re--they’re not like the Creys? I can--eat? When I want to? And their house isn’t super big and empty and quiet and they’ll let me go outside and play and they won’t keep me in the house alone by myself and--”

“It’s okay, Taako,” Adeeva says, and gently pries his hands away from where they grip his hair. “These people are  _ nothing _ like the Creys. Okay?”

He nods. “Okay. Okay.”

* * *

 

Once again, Taako shoves everything into a black plastic trash bag. A few changes of clothes. The same book he’s read four or five times now. A notebook. A pen. A pencil. A ragged stuffed animal that’s been through hell and is mostly unrecognizable at this point but which probably used to be a sheep.

And then he climbs into Adeeva’s car, waving goodbye to Ren and Paloma, stomach heavy with uncertainty and dread. His fingers, nails ragged and bitten-down, fidget in his lap.

“Taako,” Adeeva says gently. “Don’t worry, okay? We’ve run multiple background checks on these people. Their children are very nice, and the school district is great.”

“Mm-hmm.” Taako’s voice is anything but certain.

The Cardinal family’s house is nice enough, a pretty condo in stereotypical suburban territory. There’s a modest SUV parked in the open garage, and a slightly-shabby ornamental maple tree in the front yard. Overtop the garage door sits a basketball hoop, slightly rusted but appearing well-used. Some of the tension eases out of Taako at this sight. It looks homey.

Two people stand in front of the painted-red door of the house. A man, square-jawed with salt-and-pepper hair, a few lines on his face, a thicker, more heavyset body, and wearing a short-sleeved pale blue polo with khakis. A woman, petite, wide-hipped, with shoulder-length brown hair, wearing a scooped-neck purple shirt and white capri pants.

They look nice.

They smile and wave as Adeeva helps Taako get his bag out of the car and leads him up to meet them. “You must be Taako!” Mr Cardinal says with a smile. He holds out his hand for a handshake and Taako shakes it hesitantly. The man has dry hands and a firm shake. “You can call me Steve. Or dad, if you ever feel the need,” he laughs.

“And I’m Helen,” the woman says pleasantly, her face the picture of motherly kindness. “I’m so glad you’re going to be staying with us. You can come inside and meet the boys.” She ushers them into the house, which is well-lit and smells of potpourri and lemon. “Zach! Pat!” she calls, and the sound of running footsteps echo from upstairs. A moment later, two boys come tumbling and clamoring down the staircase and into the front room.

“I’m Zach,” the taller boy says. He’s pale and round-faced, with lots of freckles on his ruddy nose and cheeks. Taako thinks he looks overfed and spoiled. He wishes that were him.

“And I’m Pat,” the younger boy says, shoving his older brother out of the way to gain the spotlight. He’s missing a front tooth and his straw-colored hair sticks out all over the place. He’s wearing an oversized Avengers T-shirt.

Taako immediately likes him.

“I’m Taako,” he says, cringing as his too-high voice cracks on the first syllable of his stupid name.

“Like the food?” Pat asks.

“Uh--kinda,” Taako says.

“Neat! I wish I was named after a food,” Pat grins.

Taako immediately loves this stupid kid.

“Well. I’ll be back in a week to check up on you,” Adeeva says, bending down to hug Taako.

He doesn’t cling even a little bit.

(Okay, maybe a little.)

“Bye,” he says as the door shuts behind her.

And he’s left in a house full of strangers.

**Author's Note:**

> Be kind to me :')
> 
> Find me on tumblr @themindofcc!


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